Monday, August 30, 2010

When I was five or six we did this really lame thing: everyone was a best friend. So, Derek was my first best friend, the kid across the street [1] was my second best friend. Curtis Neat up the street was a best friend of indeterminate number. Laurie Keller [3] was my first best friend who was a girl. And so on. Shortly after this phase ended (probably when we all hit first grade together) we moved from pastoral Eugene, Oregon to dusty, humid, Oklahoma.

Anyway. I like this cartoon / blog a whole bunch. If I still did the lame best friend thing this would be my best webcomic friend, is real funny and poignant and draws in a jagged artistic way.

[1] Kyle? Carl? He wore cowboy boots all the time. Unless that was somebody else. His older sister gave me a butterfly for my birthday. Whatever his name, his mom and dad had a big orange monster cat that came across the street and picked fights with our tabby [2]. Under the house. Sounded horrible: two tom cats hissing and growling and yowling and tearing each other up, right under the floor.

[2] Cleverly named Kat. We had to call him something at the vet and it isn't like cats come when their name is called. My parents picked out a better name for the dog: Frisky.

Frisky came to a bad end. Unable to adjust to city life he was sent to Grandpa's farm. A few months after his exile he, and the rest of Grandpa's dogs, found a porcupine.

Rags, Percy came back with quills in their muzzles: lesson learned, porcupines hurt. Frisky, displaying an inability to adapt to the bitter end, kept eating porcupine until he had mad amounts of quills jammed in his throat. And his gut. I imagine his intestines looked like an old pincushion just before you throw it away when you cut it open to get the pins out.

[3] I feel a little bad, now, that Laurie wasn't a best-best friend because if anyone was, she was. Because Derek could be a little bit of a dick. But he lived next door. Laurie didn't live next door, she lived oh, blocks and blocks away. But in my memory she was always cool and friendly and she had an awesome back yard and a cool house. And she was not a wiener like Derek could be. Also, she's the reason I got a new bicycle when I was five. That's cool, man.

When I was five or six we did this really lame thing: everyone was a best friend. So, Derek was my first best friend, the kid across the street [1] was my second best friend. Curtis Neat up the street was a best friend of indeterminate number. Laurie Keller [3] was my first best friend who was a girl. And so on. Shortly after this phase ended (probably when we all hit first grade together) we moved from pastoral Eugene, Oregon to dusty, humid, Oklahoma.

Anyway. I like this cartoon / blog a whole bunch. If I still did the lame best friend thing this would be my best webcomic friend, is real funny and poignant and draws in a jagged artistic way.

[1] Kyle? Carl? He wore cowboy boots all the time. Unless that was somebody else. His older sister gave me a butterfly for my birthday. Whatever his name, his mom and dad had a big orange monster cat that came across the street and picked fights with our tabby [2]. Under the house. Sounded horrible: two tom cats hissing and growling and yowling and tearing each other up, right under the floor.

[2] Cleverly named Kat. We had to call him something at the vet and it isn't like cats come when their name is called. My parents picked out a better name for the dog: Frisky.

Frisky came to a bad end. Unable to adjust to city life he was sent to Grandpa's farm. A few months after his exile he, and the rest of Grandpa's dogs, found a porcupine.

Rags, Percy came back with quills in their muzzles: lesson learned, porcupines hurt. Frisky, displaying an inability to adapt to the bitter end, kept eating porcupine until he had mad amounts of quills jammed in his throat. And his gut. I imagine his intestines looked like an old pincushion just before you throw it away when you cut it open to get the pins out.

[3] I feel a little bad, now, that Laurie wasn't a best-best friend because if anyone was, she was. Because Derek could be a little bit of a dick. But he lived next door. Laurie didn't live next door, she lived oh, blocks and blocks away. But in my memory she was always cool and friendly and she had an awesome back yard and a cool house. And she was not a wiener like Derek could be. Also, she's the reason I got a new bicycle when I was five. That's cool, man.